


Losing Eric

by oneatatime



Category: Power Rangers Time Force
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things go unexpectedly badly, some years after Reinforcements from the Future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Eric

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent melancholia. <3 
> 
> For my Eric.

I wasn't with you when you died.

I don't know if it would've made any difference. Doubt it. We're not in our twenties any more, and while there's something to be said for the years of training, strength, wiliness, and sheer aggravation we both have... there's also something to be said for being twenty-two and able to heal just about anything. 

But hell, Eric. You got hit by a goddamn car. Of all things. Someone like you should've at least gone out in some huge ridiculous explosion. We're Power Rangers, man, two of the longest serving Rangers on the planet. Explosions are practically our birthright. 

But no. Hit by a car. Stupid street racers. Died at the scene. 

Without me.

Worst phone call I've ever received in my life. Don't even remember getting to the hospital. You were already dead when I got there. 

Yeah, I know it's stupid. You wouldn't've wanted me to die with you. But I don't know -

 _Hell,_ Eric. We were just beginning to figure things out with Jen, and Taylor, too. 

I love you. 

I miss you.

I'm not about to forget your face. Your voice. The way your eyes crinkled when you saw me. The way your eyebrows drew together when you were about to rip into some idiot new recruit for doing something stupidly unsafe that you'd already told him not to do, three or four times. I've got a million pictures, videos, of you. Official news footage. Parties. Private crap at home, just you and me, when you'd growl at me to _put the goddamn phone down, Wes, and come watch the goddamn game, I haven't even combed my **hair**_. 

But the other stuff.

No one squeaks the back door like you. The bed still smells like you. That won't last. Will I forget your scent? Will I forget your arms around my waist, the way your stubble rasped against mine when you'd come hug me from behind while I was staring at the mirror? Will I forget the warmth of your back when I'd roll over during the night and sling an arm across you? The exact heft of your hand in mine, being sappy because it was just us, or being incredibly sappy out in public because you were still pissed off and scared at me because I got hurt and you could've lost me? Will I forget the way it felt to grin at you when I said something stupid and made you grin first? 

Guess I'll find out.


End file.
